


Spur of the Moment

by orphan_account



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Day #1, M/M, and yes this is rly crappy im sorry, for oumota week, i know im late i dont care, mostly dialogue bc im a horrible writer :'), probably the only one im doing for this week anyways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 10:46:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14714588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Hey, Momo-chan! Catch!” Ouma threw a box at Momota. The latter caught it with ease, inspecting the purple, medium sized box.“Hm? What’s this?” Momota switched between the box and Ouma’s smiling face.“Open it, dummy. Don’t tell me you don’t know how to open a box…”





	Spur of the Moment

“Hey, Momo-chan! Catch!” Ouma threw a box at Momota. The latter caught it with ease, inspecting the purple, medium sized box.

 

“Hm? What’s this?” Momota switched between the box and Ouma’s smiling face. 

 

“Open it, dummy. Don’t tell me you don’t know how to open a box…” Ouma frowned, sighing and stepping forward on his tiptoes to grab the box.

 

Momota lifted the object out of reach. “Stop it! I know how to open it!” He frowned, trying to lift the lid. It wouldn’t budge.

 

“Hey! What’d you do to this thing?” Momota grunted, shaking the box before throwing in back to Ouma. The small male flinched before fumbling to catch it.

 

“Silly Momo-chan!” Ouma giggled, taking out a key and shoving it into the bottom of the box.

 

“That’s dirty, Ouma.”

 

“It’s your fault, you hairy spaceman.”

 

“Whatever. Hurry up.”

 

With a click, Ouma put the box behind his back. “Get on your knees and beg.”

 

“Why would I get on my knees for something I don’t even know!”

 

“Ugh, just do it!”

 

“No! You get on your knees!”

 

“Woah, moving fast with the relationship, aren’t we?” Ouma wiggled his eyebrows.

 

“Stop‒ Don’t‒ Quit with that! Stop laughing!” He could feel the heat rush to his cheeks as Ouma laughed. He slowly retracted the box.

 

“Here.” Ouma stopped laughing, changing to a soft smile. Anxiousness etched his features as the box transferred from his hands to Momota. He slowly opened the lid to find...

 

Rocks.

 

Just rocks.

 

Rocks were filled to the brim of the box.

 

Just. Rocks.

 

“Ouma, are you fucking kidding me?”

 

“Y-Your face is priceless!” Ouma’s knees buckled. He fell to the floor, body contorting into a ball. He rolled around with his hands on his stomach.

 

“Stop fucking laughing!” Momota yelled, attempts futile by the wheezes coming out of Ouma’s mouth. He was already thinking of ways to shut him up.

 

After Ouma’s dialed down, he slowly got back on his feet, pulling out a piece of checkered cloth from his back pocket.

 

“This was your real gift.”

 

Kaito took it, feeling the material between his fingers. It was smooth like silk. A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips.

 

“It’s one of my scarves. This means once you put it on, you are to be my slave and subordinate forever!” Ouma grinned.

 

“Like hell I’ll ever be your slave. But — ” Momota inspected the cloth closer — “Did you make this yourself?”

 

“No, I have the Ultimate Stitcher on my team. He makes all of the scarves.” Ouma picked the dirt under his nails.

 

“Like hell he does.” Momota frowned for a second before returning his smile. “Wow, but seriously, thank you, Ouma.”

 

Ouma’s protests were cut out when his face crashed against Momota’s chest in a not-so-gentle hug.

 

“I-It’s hard to breathe…” Momota let go, getting on one knee and pecking his lips.

 

Silence.

 

The two flushed, unable to form proper sentences nor eye contact. After a while, Momota spoke up.

 

“That was on the spur of the moment.”

 

“Sure it was.”

  
  



End file.
